In the Long Run

I started wearing a pedometer about two months ago in conjunction with a fitness program at work. The pamphlet describing the program indicated that I would need to accumulate at least 10,000 steps a day to be considered “Active”. I was surprised to find that without counting the steps in my running and other workouts, I only took about 3,000 steps a day—labeled “Inactive” in the brochure. Ouch. Three thousand steps is equivalent to walking only about a mile and a half. Now that my marathon is over, I haven’t been doing very much running, or apparently, walking either.

I admit to being a little competitive, even with myself. I decided to step it up (so to speak). If 10,000 steps would put me in the “Active” category, I decided to push myself to acquire 15,000 or even 20,000 steps a day. I’m pleased to report that I have achieved the 20,000 steps a day total several times, even when I counted, at the most, a 5-mile run in the total.

My zeal for adding steps in my life expanded to a desire to include my husband in this healthy obsession. I bought him a pedometer, and signed him up for an individual walking program. Soon he was checking his steps throughout the day just as I had been doing, and suddenly there was a bit of competition between us.

“How many steps do you have?” my husband began asking, seemingly innocently enough. We’d compare, and quite often, at the beginning of the day he could gloat about having more steps than I. Ah, but he, unfortunately has a desk job, while my job requires me to take many steps. I almost always surpassed him by dinner time, and if I didn’t, I found myself searching for ways to increase my step total.

One night we were watching a TV program together, and I began stepping in place. “Are you going to do that the entire show?” my husband asked incredulously. “No,” I answered sweetly. “I’ll probably jog in place during the second half.”

On Halloween night, I dreaded having to answer the door of my split-entry house numerous times for the trick-or-treaters, requiring a trip up and down stairs. At first I thought I was being pampered when my husband jumped up and chivalrously answered the door for about the first 10 groups of kids. Then I realized what he was doing—he was getting more steps!

Last weekend after our pickleball workout, he and I put away the equipment together, and then discovered that we didn’t have the right key to lock the equipment closet. “Drat!” I grumbled. “The key is at the back desk way down the hall.” “I’ll go get it,” my husband offered. Then I realized what was up. “No, I’ll go,” I said, and began to sprint out of the gym. “Ha, ha, more steps!” I chortled. “Wait!” He yelled after me. “Let’s at least do rock, paper, scissors!!” Too late. I was already 50 steps ahead of him.

So our friendly competition continues. Rather than accumulating the highest number of steps, really our goal is better health through more activity. And that is certainly a step in the right direction.

Posted by Cyppy at 11:06 PM